My Angel
by mrsfenrirgreyback
Summary: Hermione, records an entry in her diary. Warnings: Contains SUICIDE ATTEMPTS and ABORTION. Please don't judge the life decisions, this is my true story, Please take into consideration, that I am only 15. For the First Time Competition by JadedEpiphany. Disclaimer: I don't own HP. Please review...


Dear Diary,

I have nightmares, about hospitals. Muggle ones. The one's that are so white, you think you could go colorblind, by just staring intently at the walls; desks; chairs; everything. Everything in a hospital is white. I suppose, it could for 2 reasons, really. One, for the cleanliness, to prevent the spread of infections or disease. Or secondly, to cheer you up. To remind you that not everything, in your small world of despair, misery and pain is black or grey. It never works, just reminds you that your are indeed not perfect, that you try to be. Instead of making your pain, less painful; your despair lesser, like it is intended too, it makes your worse. It rubs it in your face, how overwhelmed by dark, dangerous emotions you are, and you feel like you can't escape the prison, that is the idealism of perfection.

The nightmares, never cease to amaze me. How depressing the nightmares can be, utterly terrifying they are, how they can use your darkest fears against you, and for first time, in the 2 months you are able to feel something. However painful and excruciating it is. How the hot sweats you wake up in, in the early hours of the morning, silently shaking, salty tears streaming down your face, screaming -soundlessly- in desperations for someone, something to hear you and soothe you, comfort you.

No-one ever comes, despite the 'secret' glances, they sneak at you, to make sure that you are feeling ok. You plaster on a fake smile, and pretend to be concentrating. On something. Anything, but you know, that behind the smile, you can feel yourself crumbling breaking down from the pain, and in that singular moment, you feel your emotions. You make a decision, a decision to end it all. To give it up and be with the one person, in the world, that you want -need- to be with.

You down the pills, and the muggle alcohol, and patiently wait for to end, falling into an undisturbed sleep, hopefully waking in the heavens where you will finally be reunited with the other half of your soul. Like most things you do at life, who fails. Spend 3 days, ill suffering from the overdose, and a further 2 days on a drip to refresh your kidneys. They say one more, would of killed me, and most of the time, I had cleared the packet, swallowed all 18 pills and died.

They, mother, kept ranting at me, telling me that it was a stupid decision, that it was selfish. Although, like many times before I can see the raw pain, and anxiety shining in her beautiful blue-grey eyes and I understood. It was a selfish thing, to attempt. To try to kill myself, but I had to do it, to save myself from this deep-rooted pain. To save my mother, more heartbreak, I lied. I lied to her, and I lied to the doctors. I told them, I attempted suicide because my boyfriend left me and kept saying he hated me. It wasn't the truth, it wasn't even close to the truth.

I wanted to kill myself, because they forced me, to kill my own baby. My baby. Why didn't she let me have a choice. Why didn't my own mother let me keep my precious accident. My angel. She had, it had to be done. I wasn't ready to take care, of an infant, that I wasn't old enough to even begin to think of having a child. _My own child._

Each month, is hard. I count the days until the 1st of each month, and that day, every month, by body shaking with sobs, and tears pour freely down my face. I curl, under my covers and cry myself to sleep.

The nightmares, don't stop and I have a funny feeling they will never stop. Each memory haunts me, the hospital waiting room, the other faces of the women clutching their hospital nightgowns looking downtrodden and sad and what was about to happen. I will always be haunted about climbing onto the bed, laying down and waking up, my bottom half covered in blood.

I will never forget, even 11 months after. The 11 months filled with pain so heartbreaking and excruciating that those who survived, are lucky and most likely depressed. Like me, I can't look in the mirror and see myself, a healthy happy teenage girl anymore, I see a murderous heartbroken shell of a girl I used to see.

But tonight, I know what I will be dreaming about. I won't be having the nightmare's tonight, I am going to start fighting for what I want. What I truly want, and not stopping until I get it. Tonight, I am going to dream, of my cradling my baby, sat back in a cushioned armchair, listening to the soft music behind me, whilst cooing my newborn infant, dreaming the dream I thought would be my reality, 12 months ago.

_Tonight I will dream of My Angel. _

Love, Hermione Granger

**3 RIP MY BEAUTIFUL BABY, MUMMY LOVES YOU 3**

A/N: Please be sensitive, when reviewing. This is my real life experience, please do not judge my 'forced' or not so forced choices, I already do, majorally. Thank you for reading, I hope it doesn't offend anyone.


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